


(Kuori)nta

by WolfMothar



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Other, Slow Burn, cissies watch it, elaborate reason to write about pegging din, fast and loose with sw canon, this is for the peeps with queer genders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:20:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28874484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfMothar/pseuds/WolfMothar
Summary: Kuorinta - to peel/peelingKuori - shell/peel-The reader is Din Djarin's latest bounty, while also a being unlike any the Mandalorian has ever seen.  History will likely come to repeat itself if the past with the child is anything to go by.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 16





	1. Chitinous

**Author's Note:**

> we will see where this mess goes

Body wrapped in loose old bandages, covered by an old cloth tarp that drags the sand. Face masked by a visor reminiscent of that of a C-21 battle droid, but carved with patterns. Steps quiet. No weapons in sight. Din lowers his scope.

Easy money, the employer said. Bring them alive, they have something of mine, were the instructions given by the Twi'lek. The quarry didn’t seem to have anything but the clothes on their body. Din was getting a little suspicious but quickly buried those thoughts. The quarry entered the cantina. That was his best chance, most often the targets didn’t want to make a scene so they would comply. He was close on their heels after he dropped down from the rooftop. 

The cantina doors opened up with a hiss. All eyes were on him. It was a quiet time of the day, most people were working at noon. His T-visor scanned the crowd. There at the back in a booth alone, waterskin on the table, a tube coming under the mask. As he approaches the table, the target drops the tube and settles their mask in his direction. No face to be seen. No skin to witness. All covered. He settles before the quarry, table between them. The unchanging mask tilts minutely.

He tosses the puck on the table and it lights up, revealing a hologram of its doppelganger at the table. His hand drifts to his blaster.

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.” His voice is modulated by the vocoder in his helmet.

The figure before him rises and Din realizes he didn't quite notice their height, as they stand about a head higher than him. No problem to him, he has caught quarries twice his weight and on a good day, he can even beat Paz in a sparring match.

The quarry goes to walk past him, but his hand catches their shoulder. Under the layers of cloth, he can feel the cold hardness, almost akin to his armor.

At that moment he knows this won't be easy money.

The mask turns to his hand, the engravings gleam in the dingy light of the cantina, as their hand comes towards his. Din draws his blaster in a flash, It’s knocked out of his hand before he can even point it at his quarry. The other hand grabs him in a vice grip at the point of his neck where there isn’t beskar armor to protect it.

He raises his arm, vambrace spitting fire. Easily catching onto the dry and old fabric of his target's clothing. They are engulfed in the flames, cantina patrons gazing almost carelessly as if this was normal everyday entertainment. 

Clothing burns off, exposing an iridescent, shining insectoid exoskeleton that follows the lines and anatomy of a humanoid. The damaged parts of the chitinous armor molts and repairs itself in seconds.

A deep rumble sounds deep from their chest, organic vents at the sides flapping rapidly.

“I was coming along, bucket.” The chitin on their face is smooth and doesn't have any features. Only a diagonal slit opens to reveal a face, a human face. Scowl paints the skin. Snarl of the lip that shows teeth soon turns into a lazy smirk. For the first time in a while Din is truly wordless.

The quarry came quietly, only grumbling a bit about their clothing. He threw them his cloak, which they gratefully wrapped themselves up in. Face again hidden, safe to meet fate.

The quarry walks by his side and as the clouds overhead part, the black chitin shines an ethereal rainbow of reds, golds, and greens.

In the ship the quarry turns to him again. "Now I am going to come quietly, you'll put me into carbonite and when you turn me in, I am going to kill whoever it is who wants me." They cock their featureless face to the side. "After you get paid of course."

"Wouldn't it be easier if you weren't in carbonite? You could get sick after the thaw."

The face turns to the roof as they think for a moment, arms crossed, then bursting into laughter.

"Oh, I didn't think that through." Offering him their hand, which he refuses, they introduce themselves. V, the Fifth.


	2. bloodied claws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is all prelude to pegging, just so you know.

The child was often quite rude by adult standards, what with the eating of frogs (and their eggs!), general stealing, and Jedi-magic-choking. It wasn't truly uncommon. All in all, it was not that out of the ordinary. But considering how deeply the child was staring at the faceless mask (face?), and how intently V's head was directed at the devil-cherub, it was quite unnerving. At least to Din.

"You talking to him?"

The featureless face turned to him.

"No, but I think he might be trying to communicate with one of the past inhabitants." Their gaze turned back to the child.

Now that was something Din didn't ’t want to meddle in. His attention wasn't really needed on the controls when in hyperspace. Jedi hunting was already taking its toll on him. With a long-suffering groan that was hidden by his vocoder, he decides to ask.

"Inhabitants?" 

"Of my vessel." Comes an answer that reveals nothing at all. He has a feeling they're going to be on this topic for a long time.

"Elaborate on that."

They hum, deep in thought.

"My body is a parasite of a kind." Din's eyes almost bulge out under his helm. "I live inside this vessel, which is a separate entity from me. And like an heirloom, it can be in many people's possession. I am the fifth one inhabiting it." They scratch the kid's forehead. He coos happily. "Some memories are saved within this vessel. I think one of them might have been your child's kind." 

Din then remembers that this is a bounty he is meant to turn in and if not for the power and size, he would have assumed safety. But he knows better than that.

The child is trying to reach someone who doesn't exist anymore. At least not in a way that matters to the likes of Din.

"Coming out of hyperspace."

The razor crest lands on a somewhat populated planet that houses all kinds of criminals and decent folk. How they keep the order around here is a well-documented phenomenon. If anyone sees Imps or Reps, they are encouraged to shoot to kill. Paid to do so in fact. In exchange, the civilians are promised safety and necessities. It works well for everyone. 

The child bagged and V, the bounty, cuffed. He led them to the house of the twi'lek client.

As the payment hits his hands, V breaks out of the cuffs and grabs the head of the Twi'lek. Easily enough the client is on the floor and its head is ripped clean off the shoulders and tossed away as if it was trash. The vents release steam. 

Din has never been harder in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> hopefully, this won't be left uncompleted


End file.
